


sink your teeth into my flesh

by deviant900



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, M/M, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Not Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 02:30:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16108919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviant900/pseuds/deviant900
Summary: Gavin’s lips fell apart, a question already forming on his tongue, but all of it died in his throat as Connor’s lips found his neck again. He could definitely get used to this, used to someone ordering him around in bed. He was almost tempted to ask if Connor would be willing to hold his wrists above his head so he couldn’t touch Connor back.Pain, hot and sharp, struck him.





	sink your teeth into my flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [connorbecomesdeviant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorbecomesdeviant/gifts).



> back at it again w/ some connor/gavin bullshit. i asked for prompts on tumblr and connorbecomesdeviant delivered! they gave me a list of vampire prompts, asked for vamp!connor, with a human/android pairing that didn't have to have romance in it. honestly, i was going to make it kind of romantic in the beginning, but then it went down a more horror-esque path, and that was so much fun to write.
> 
> i didn't use the non-con warning because there aren't any rape scenes in this fic. personally, i don't think the warning applies since there's a "non-con blood drinking" tag already. if i do need the warning for this, please let me know so i can add it! otherwise, y'all enjoy.
> 
> also, filthy vampires are my kink. love it. and i need to learn to not write while having an insomnia episode.
> 
> hope i did your prompt proud! 
> 
> song of the day: [flesh - simon curtis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEfKooMunLI)

Gavin was about to lose his fucking mind.

He wasn’t sure how he had let Elijah convince him to attend one of his ridiculous, over-the-top holiday parties, complete with some of the strongest mixed drinks Gavin had ever had in his life, but there was nothing more he wanted than to be at home in his bed. Surely, there was some cheesy Halloween movie or cop drama on that he could get into with a bottle of whiskey that hadn’t been watered down with water and soda. The quiet stillness of his apartment was far more appealing than whatever social mess was happening in front of him.

Elijah’s home, enormous yet frustratingly minimalistic, was filled with people Gavin had never met before. Complete strangers, they were grinding and writhing against each other to music that sounded like it belonged in some underground rave club filled with cigarette smoke and bad decisions. The beat of the overhead music made his head pound. The temptation to snatch up whatever device was blasting it and throw it through one of the floor-to-ceiling windows was becoming harder to ignore. At the very least, doing that could provide some less-offending light than the strobes.

Fuck it. Gavin refilled his drink and slipped through the gyrating crowd towards the balcony. He needed some air, maybe a cigarette, anything, really, if it drove away the oppressive pressure in his head. He just needed a moment of peace.

The glass did very little to drown out the music behind him, but once the sliding door was closed, Gavin let out an audible sigh. He was already feeling better, the freezing cold a pleasant contrast to the heat exuding from him. He also realized just how much alcohol he’d consumed in the last hour, if the haze around him was anything to go by. He looked down at his half-finished cup and poured the rest of it in the snow beside him. He had had enough for the night.

Gavin traced the rim of his cup and watched the snow dancing and drifting with a sharp gust of wind. He could see the city from Elijah’s balcony, watching the cars drive the interstate and the lights flicker on and off in sky-reaching towers. His brother had a hell of a view from his home, but Gavin wasn’t sure if he could stand being so secluded.

Speaking of seclusion: Gavin noticed that he wasn’t alone in escaping the party. Illuminated by the lights behind him, he saw a figure leaning against the railing of the balcony, elbows indenting the snow as they looked out over the city.

Gavin took a step forward, snow crunching under his foot, and they turned. Dark brown eyes froze him in place, watching him.

That gaze was hypnotizing.

The stranger was dressed in a very corny vampire costume, with a waist-length black cape hanging from his shoulders and a line of fake blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He wore a thin white shirt, unbuttoned rather low, tucked into sleek black pants. He looked like the same stereotypical Dracula, one of the many still inside with their booze and music, but his fangs were convincing. If Gavin hadn’t known better, he would have thought they were real.

Gavin pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pried one out. The stranger watched him, continued as he walked towards the edge for himself. Gavin could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end when his gaze didn’t let up.

“Take a picture, asshole,” Gavin snapped as he slipped one of the white sticks into his mouth. His lighter didn’t cooperate with him; damn spark couldn’t stick. “It’ll last longer.”

After a few failed attempts at getting a flame to life from his lighter, Gavin cursed and shoved it into his back pocket. Goddammit. He couldn’t even smoke, it seemed.

Just as he had snatched the cigarette from his teeth and was prepared to toss it over the edge, he heard a metallic flick, and orange bloomed in the corner of his eye. The stranger had his own lighter and was offering the weak flame to Gavin. His hand shielded it from the biting wind as Gavin accepted it, leaning forward and puffing until the end of his cigarette turned red and the first puff hit his lungs. He took a deep full breath then, before blowing the smoke into the air.

“I apologize for staring,” he finally said. Despite the wind whipping around them, and the muffled bass of the new song behind them, Gavin could hear the man’s voice clearly. It was almost melodic in its sound, a gentle rasp clinging to each word. “You have a demanding presence. It’s hard to ignore.”

Gavin grunted in response, taking a deep drag and letting the smoke pour over his lips. “Thanks, I guess?” Gavin held the cigarette between two of his fingers as he spoke. “Did you get tired of the party, too?”

“In a sense,” he replied, dousing the lighter’s flame and stashing it away. “The bodies, the music, the _smell_ , it all got overwhelming. I needed a break.”

Gavin scoffed and took a breathed deep on his cigarette. He could sympathize. Taking shelter from the party with a like-minded stranger seemed like an okay way to spend the rest of his evening before he left. He could stand enough conversation to tell Elijah that he was there, he drank and made friends, and then he could leave.

A moment passed between them, and Gavin shuddered from the cold after blowing more smoke into the air.

“—ner,” the man said, and Gavin realized that he hadn’t been listening to him. He made a confused noise, his brow pinching together in an admittance to his accidental ignorance, and earned himself a laugh. “I said, my name is Connor.”

“Gavin.” He flicked ash into the snow below. “Thanks for the light.”

Connor made a noise in response and took a long sip of his own drink. Gavin hadn’t noticed the cup before, resting in a patch of snow along the railing that was significantly thinner than the mounds beside it. He wondered how long Connor had been out here, his hand steady in the harsh cold. Gavin had been out for only a few moments and was already trembling, trying not to let his teeth chatter. Connor barely even acknowledged the snow around him. The only thing that seemed to react was an errant lock of his hair, occasionally moving in the wind.

“So,” Gavin started, catching Connor’s attention. He supposed they could at least talk while they were taking shelter outside together, “what brings you to a party like this? Doesn’t exactly seem like your type of crowd.”

Connor’s mouth turned up. “A friend of mine was invited, but her girlfriend had to call out due to work. I was her last-minute date. She’s the one who gave me this ridiculous costume.” As if Gavin hadn’t already seen it, Connor flapped the edge of his cape. “She gave me some bullshit ‘live a little’ speech, so I caved.”

“What? You don’t like living?” Gavin teased.

The expression on Connor’s face didn’t change, but there was something off about the look in his eyes when he turned back to Gavin.

“My life has been over for centuries. I’m dead.”

Connor didn’t wait for any reaction to his dramatic reveal and took a large swallow from his drink. Gavin snorted. There was barely an atmosphere to speak of where they were standing, and yet Connor had still managed to kill it. The pseudo-deep response was amusing, though. Gavin was beginning to regret throwing out his drink. If Connor was going to keep talking like that, he was going to need the alcohol.

As if he sensed that Gavin’s interest was waning, Connor spoke up. “What about you? You’re just as miserable as I am, being here.”

“Yeah, well.” Gavin turned back to the party as the tempo of the music picked up. The crowd was nothing more than a pulsing mass of silhouettes from where he was standing. “Elijah is my brother and said that he wanted me to come out tonight. Apparently, Chinese takeout and a slasher movie marathon wasn’t a good enough Halloween celebration for him.”

They sat in silence again, a little more awkwardness hanging between them. Gavin flicked ash off his dead cigarette and tossed the butt to the ground. He really wanted a second one, but his pack was close to running out.

As if on cue, Connor straightened up from where he was leaning against the railing, tipped his cup back, and downed the rest of his drink in seconds. Gavin was impressed by how efficiently he had done it, too. Connor wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and jerked his head towards the door leading back inside.

“Want to have some fun?” he asked. Gavin’s eyes narrowed.

“‘Fun’?” he repeated. “Dead men don’t have fun.”

Connor smirked. “Give me a reason to live, then.”

The craving for a second cigarette faded quickly.

 

* * *

 

This was infinitely better than a cigarette.

Thanks to the distraction of the party downstairs, Gavin and Connor had no trouble sneaking away and making their way upstairs. Elijah had at least three guest rooms, and Gavin had spent a night in each of them on different occasions. He was surprised that the first one he pulled Connor into hadn’t been occupied by a less-sober couple of partygoers looking for fun. Maybe they were in one of the rooms further down the hall, a lower chance of being walked in on while getting down to it.

Not that it mattered, Gavin supposed. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He made sure to lock the door before Connor ripped off his five-dollar vampire cape and tossed it to the side without a second thought. Gavin curled his hands in Connor’s white shirt in an instant, fingers locked around the fabric as their lips collided. They were soft, as Gavin had been expecting, and moved against his with ease.

Connor’s sharp teeth pulled at his bottom lip, parting them for his tongue to push through, and Gavin’s legs almost turned to jelly.

Gavin pushed him away from the door and towards the bed standing in the center of the room. Connor leaned back and sat on the bed, legs hanging off the edge. He let Gavin climb over him, press him into the mattress, and run his fingers through Connor’s thick brown hair as he kissed him again. Connor made an appreciative noise at the contact and hooked a leg around Gavin’s waist. Gavin started grinding down. He let out a surprised yelp when Connor used it instead to flip them over, and his back hit the bed.

Connor leaned in again, tongue in Gavin’s mouth, his own hand in Gavin’s hair. They kissed until they couldn’t breathe, and then Connor peppered kisses from the corner of Gavin’s mouth to the angle of his jaw. He licked long stripes along Gavin’s neck. Gavin sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as Connor lavished his neck with attention, teeth digging in just enough to give him a slight sting.

A hand caressed his neck, gentle, before hardening with his thumb jabbing into the flesh under his chin.

Gavin’s mouth opened in a quiet moan, eyes fluttering shut. Connor’s mouth disappeared from his skin, and Gavin opened his eyes to look up at him. They shone like molten gold.

“Lie still,” Connor said, raking his gaze across Gavin’s face. “And don’t say a word.”

Gavin’s lips fell apart, a question already forming on his tongue, but all of it died in his throat as Connor’s lips found his neck again. He could definitely get used to this, used to someone ordering him around in bed. He was almost tempted to ask if Connor would be willing to hold his wrists above his head so he couldn’t touch Connor back.

Pain, hot and sharp, struck him. He choked on a muted gasp, voice struggling to break free from an invisible barrier. He tried again as the pain delved deeper, piercing into him. Fuck, it hurt. Fuck, _fuck_ . He couldn’t _breathe_.

Gavin tried screaming, yelling, but he found his voice unreachable. He tried to fight back, but his body ignored him. He felt as though a weight had settled on him and rendered him useless. How? Why did he feel so damn heavy? He had never let his drink or his cigs out of his sight since he had gotten here. He didn’t even _have_ his drink when he was speaking to Connor.

Connor, who was above him right now, holding him in place.

Gavin closed his eyes and swallowed. His fingers twitched, and he worked through whatever was holding him down until he could lift his right arm. He took hold of Connor’s shoulder and pushed against him. Good, progress. All he needed was a strong, hard push and he’d have an opening to get to the door.

Connor’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his fingers out of his shirt and pressing it above his head into the mattress. He lifted his head as Gavin was about to protest, and he looked furious. Gavin’s stomach dropped as Connor stared down at him, then to the arm he was holding.

A crude mixture of blood and spit oozed over his bottom lip and down his chin and neck. His white shirt was now stained red with it where the thick rivulets ran into the fabric. Gavin’s stomach churned from disgust as Connor’s gaze fixated on him again, and his head cocked gently to the side.

Those eyes burned into him. He couldn’t look away.

“I said,” Connor repeated slowly, and Gavin caught a flash of pristine white from between his red-stained lips, “ _lie still_.”

And just like that, the weight returned. He couldn’t move, as though his enraged words had overcome whatever fight was left in Gavin. Connor looked satisfied enough with his words to release Gavin’s wrist, and he ducked back down. The pain returned, raw and bringing stars into his vision. He could barely breathe again, and unlike his body, his voice didn’t seem to have any luck in recovering from whatever compulsion Connor had put him under. It remained trapped within his chest.

Connor moaned at his ear, an obscene sound with his lips at Gavin’s bloodied neck, and this time, Gavin could feel the blood pooling on the sheets. The pain had subsided to a dull ache, but he could feel the distinct sensation of Connor’s tongue lapping at the wound. Gavin swallowed, and he could feel Connor chuckling against his skin.

“You have an interesting taste, Gavin,” Connor whispered. He sat up fully now, eyes still cold, and even more blood running down his face. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing it into a bright red streak across his right cheek. A pink tongue poked out to taste what was on his lips. “So good. I can’t get enough.”

If Gavin could have spoken, he would have told Connor to go fuck himself. Instead, he remained helpless in watching Connor collect blood on his fingertips and lick them clean.

“We’ll be seeing each other again, I’ll make sure of that.” Connor pushed his hair back with a bloodied hand. Gavin grunted. His voice was returning to him; maybe he could call for help, get someone’s attention over the music blaring from the party below them.

As if reading his mind, Connor smirked down at him, and he put his hand over Gavin’s eyes. Gavin closed them. He tried not to think of all the blood on Connor’s fingers. “Sssh. Don’t worry anymore, Gavin. It’s over. It’s time to wake up.”

Gavin’s eyes flew open.

 

* * *

 

The sunlight was blinding when Gavin finally opened his eyes. He rubbed the heel of his palm against them to rid of the soreness, and groaned at the growing throbbing behind his eyes. Everything hurt. His head felt like there was a steam hammer beating against his temples, no doubt from whatever cocktail had been in his cup the night before. He felt sick, and however he had managed to fall onto the bed, the position had done a number on his neck. It hurt like a bitch.

Elijah had painkillers in his guest bathrooms, right? Gavin remembered taking some for a pulled muscle while helping him renovate one of the bedrooms.

Gavin pulled himself up into a sitting position, taking note that the bed sheets stuck to the skin of his neck. They broke off with a sharp tug. God, he hoped that wasn’t vomit that had hardened in his hair.

Not that he had a chance to figure it out, anyways. A scream sent his heart racing, shattering the quiet of Elijah’s home in the morning after. Gavin gripped the sheets as he watch Chloe standing in the doorway, hands over her mouth and staring at him with wide eyes. She had nearly sent him off the bed screaming like that. He didn’t think he looked _that_ bad.

There was the sound of feet pounding on the floor, and Elijah appeared at the doorway with his hands on Chloe, ready to pull her away from danger. Gavin groaned at a spike of pain in his head.

“God, I know I look bad,” he drawled. Elijah swore from the doorway. “I’m hungover as hell, though, and you two aren’t helping. Shit, my head hurts.”

Gavin hissed as Elijah rushed to his side and grabbed his shoulder, bringing to light a new kind of pain as he tilted his brother’s head back. Elijah looked at him as though he was insane when Gavin shoved him back.

“Jesus, that hurt. What the fuck did you just do to me?”

“What did _I_ do?” Elijah asked, then scoffed. “You have blood all over you, Gav. Fuck, it’s in your hair, too.” He reached up and began plucking dark flakes out of Gavin’s hair. He held a few out in his hand for Gavin to see. “What happened in here? It’s all over the place.”

“It’s his neck,” Chloe said. She had taken a few tentative steps closer and now locked her eyes on Gavin’s neck. She looked like she was about to faint. “I’m going to call an ambulance. That’s too much blood loss to ignore.”

Elijah nodded but said nothing as he took Gavin’s face in his hands and turned his head away to inspect the sore spot he had aggravated moments before. Gavin slapped his hands away with a glare.

“What the fuck are you two talking about?”

“Gavin, have you seen yourself right now?” There was real fear in Elijah’s voice. He looked extremely pale, eyes flickering between Gavin’s face and whatever wound was on his neck. “You look like someone tried to fucking kill you. Who did you come up here with?”

Gavin pushed Elijah off, blinking stars out of his vision and stumbling to his knees. He hadn’t realized just how lightheaded he had become. His brother was there to help him to his feet and to the bathroom, despite his mumbled curses and arguments. Elijah ignored all the protests and kept his arms around his brother’s shoulders.

The light of the bathroom made him feel even worse when Elijah flicked it on, and he squinted his eyes shut against it. He blinked until his eyes were adjusted before looking into the mirror.

He instantly regretted it.

Gavin never thought he’d wished he had fallen asleep in his own vomit.

It was definitely blood that had dried and caked on his skin. It was also in his hair, as Elijah had mentioned before, and looked as though it was originating from a nasty wound on his neck. The skin was a dark, ugly indigo, bruised beneath the angle of his jaw. Near the center of the bruise was a ring of angry red, and Gavin could barely pick out what looked like teeth marks.

Shit, no wonder Chloe had screamed. It made his stomach drop just looking at it.

“What the fuck,” he whimpered, pressing two fingers against it. The bite stung under his touch. He gasped at the pain that radiated from the pressure of his hands. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, and neither could Elijah.

Should he even be alive right now? Fuck. What happened the night before?

Gold eyes, Gavin thought.

He remembered golden eyes.


End file.
